


The Young Match Man

by psyduckappears



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Sadness, The Little Match Girl - Freeform, fairytale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:25:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyduckappears/pseuds/psyduckappears
Summary: A lonely young man going through the streets at Christmas, looking for some light.





	

The young Match Man (Original:The Little Match Girl)

 

  
It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Evening came on, the last evening of the year. In the cold and gloom a poor young man, only an old, thin trench-coat to warm him, was walking through the streets. He didn't have shoes, he had lost them on his way as they had been too large for him and he hadn't been able to find them anymore. So now, the man was walking on his bare feet, which were quite red and blue with the cold. In his pocket, he carried several packages of matches, of which he hold one in his right hand. No one had bought any of them all day long, no one had given him a cent.

 

  
Shivering from cold and hunger, he crept along, a picture of misery, the poor man! The snow flakes fell on his short, dark and wild hair that let his blue eyes stick out miraculously, but no one was there to see his beauty. In all the windows lights were shining and there was a wonderful smell of roasted goose, for it was New Years Eve and everyone was celebrating. Yes, he thought of that!

 

  
In a corner formed by two houses, one of which projected farther out into the street than the other, he sat down and drew up his feet under himself. It was getting colder and colder but the young man had no home to return to and he had earned no cent all day, sold none of his matches so he couldn't pay for a place to stay.

 

  
His hands were almost dead from the cold. Oh, how much just one little match could warm him! If only he could take one from the box and rub it against the wall and warm his hands. He drew one out. R-r-ratch! How it sputtered and burned, fantastically. It made a bright, warm flame, like a little candle and the man held his hands above it to warm them. But it made such a strange light! It seemed to his as if he was sitting in front of a big, warm fireplace, so beautiful, and so comfortable! He stretched out to warm his feet, too but soon, the match went out, the fireplace vanished and he only held the remains of the burned match in his hands.

 

  
He struck another match against the wall. It burned brightly, and when the light fell upon the wall it became transparent like a thin veil, and he could see through it into a room. On the table a snow-white cloth was spread, and on it stood a shining dinner service. The roasted goose steamed gloriously, stuffed with apples and prunes. And what was still better, the goose jumped down from the dish and waddled along the floor with a knife and forkin its breast, right over to the young man.

 

  
Then the match went out, and he could see only the thick, cold wall. He lighted another match. Then he was sitting under the most beautiful Christmas tree. It was much larger and much more beautiful than the one he had seen last Christmas through the glass door at the rich merchant's home. Thousands of candles burned on the green branches, and coloured pictures like those in the printshops looked down at him. The young man reached both his hands toward them. Then the match went out. But the Christmas lights mounted higher. He saw them now as bright stars in the sky. One of them fell down, forming a long line of fire.

 

  
"Now someone is dying," thought the young man, for his old love, the only person who had cared for him, and who was now dead, had told him that when a star fell down, a soul went up to heaven.

He rubbed another match against the wall. It became bright again, and in the glow another young man, the young, green-eyed man he loved, stood clear and shining, kind and lovely.

 

  
"Love!" cried the match man."Oh, take me with you! I know you will disappear when the match is burned out. You will vanish like the fireplace, the wonderful roasted goose and the beautiful big Christmas tree!"

 

  
And he quickly struck the whole bundle of matches, for he wished to keep his beloved with him. And the matches burned with such a glow that it became brighter than daylight. His love had never been so grand and beautiful. He took the young match man in his arms, and both of them flew in brightness and joy above the earth, very, very high, and up there was neither cold, nor hunger, nor fear - they were with God.

 

  
But in the corner, leaning against the wall, sat the young match man with red cheeks and smiling mouth, frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. The New Year's sun rose upon a thin, pathetic figure. The man sat there, stiff and cold, holding the matches, of which one bundle was almost burned.

 

  
"He wanted to warm himself," the people said. No one imagined what beautiful things he had seen, and how happily he had gone with his true love into the bright New Year.

 

 


End file.
